


Just a day in the life of us

by Khalehla



Series: This is the future [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 'a day in the life' type of stories, Alternate Universe, Background Relationships, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Guardians of the galaxy as family, Humour, M/M, Marvel Universe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon Fix-It, additional chapters, each chapter can be read independently - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: A collection of short scenes in my fave Marvel universes. Mostly Stucky and Cherik.1. How to raise a teenager (Stucky, Gamora/Quill, Guardians-as-a-family)2. Knitting Club (Cherik)3. Ask me to stay (Cherik)4. Permission (Cherik)5. Nothing changes (Stucky)6. Gala (minor Cherik, Stucky)7. Tip of the iceberg (Cherik)





	1. How to raise a teenager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The care and raising of teenagers is always tricky, no matter what species.
> 
> Some minor Peter Quill/Gamora, and Steve/Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by some 'Guardians of the Galaxy as family' moments and that scene in the Endgame where past!Gamora sees Peter Quill for the first time.
> 
> Steve never stayed in the past, because in my universe, Steve and Bucky _always_ comes back to each other.

  
Some days Nebula thinks that Gamora should really have gone for the tree. Quill squawks when Nebula tells her sister this, because of course he does. Gamora - still suspicious but tentatively positive Gamora who relies so much on her sister for advice on how to navigate this strange, new future - asks why.

Nebula gives her sister a tired look and waves her hand at the teenage Groot who is getting yelled at by an increasingly frustrated Rocket. Steve Rogers is trying to placate the fuming raccoon while Barnes looks like he is giving a go at reasoning with Groot. Groot has his arms folded and is pouting as much as Groot can even pout, but at least he hasn't stormed off yet as the teenager has a tendency to do when Rocket, Quill or any of the other self-styled Guardians are the ones yelling at him.

"They're the same mental age," Nebula shrugs, "but at least Groot won't try to serenade you when he's trying to apologise."

"Excuse me," Quill exclaims indignantly, "my voice is lovely. And Gamora likes it when I sing for her."

Gamora blushes lightly, much to Nebula's horror. She stares at her sister in disbelief. "Why?" she groans, feeling somewhat betrayed.

Gamora just shrugs, Quill preens and Nebula sighs; there's really no accounting for taste, sometimes.

The drama with Groot seems to have ended with Groot sulking off, headphones over his head and Rocket, Steve and Barnes joining them.

"I swear to all the gods that teenagers in any species are a bunch of stubborn, dramatic shits," Rocket declares.

"Did he agree to at least clean his room?" Peter asks.

Nebula suppresses a groan. This had been an ongoing argument between Groot and the "adults" in his life ever since they were given accommodation at the old Avengers facilities to use when they were actually on earth. Nebula would have rather been in Wakanda when they weren't in space since Fury, Carol and the rest of the Avengers could handle all the shit going down in this part of the world, but the African nation had their own mess to deal with on their continent, and giving asylum to even _more_ foreigners was not going to go down well with their citizens. So Avengers compound it is.

Unfortunately, whatever the puberty equivalent that Groots went through had kicked in with a vengeance in the last week, and the teenager's room now resembled more of an electronics gaming store than living quarters, to the point that the cleaning crew refused to go in and clean the dust-filled room just from all the gadgets they had to go through. The robotic cleaning bots were also now a no-go after one of them got tangled in the dozens of cables lying around the floor and ended up causing an electrical fault that started a small fire. Twice. No-one knows how either of those fires could have happened, but no-one was willing to take the risk anymore and now the only person who was allowed in the room was Groot and _he_ didn't look like he cared what condition his quarters were in. Quill (and Drax and Rocket) had been mortified on Groot's behalf, and had spent the last week trying to get Groot to clean the mess, but with no luck.

Barnes grimaces, sticks his hand out, palm down, and rocks it back and forth. "You know I can't actually understand Groot, right? But he didn't sass me back the way he's been doing with all you guys, so hopefully that means he'll think about it."

"That's still ten times more than where we got," Quill grumbles.

"Bucky's always been good at corralling kids," Steve says, proud grin and dopey look on his face when he looks at Barnes. "He did it with his sisters and the kids on the farm. And the goats; we can't forget about the goats." Steve stops in the unabashed praise to make a face. "They always listen to him but I can't get them to do anything I tell them."

"That's 'coz your first strategy is to yell at them," Barnes points at with a roll of his eyes. "When you gonna realise telling teenagers what to do will make them do the exact opposite? No matter what the species, they're wired to be contrarian."

"As long as he cleans his fucking room," Rocket gripes. "We don't need to get kicked out because he's a slob. Maybe we should head to space for another adventure; he could be bored. Most teenagers are bored all the time, right?"

They all look blankly at each other. "Yes?" Steve says tentatively in the manner of someone who has never been truly bored in his life.

"I'll take that as a yes," Rockets sighs at their non-confirmation. "Quill, your turn to talk to Groot, I'm gonna check in with Rhodey and Fury and ask the others if they want to come."

The irate raccoon doesn't even wait for their response, just storms out.

"Why am I stuck with dealing with Groot?" Quill grumbles, walking off in the direction that Groot went. "It's not like he's listened to me at all this week; why does Rocket think he'll listen to me now? And who wants to get stuck in space with a moody teenager anyway? It's gonna be hell."

As Quill more or less sulks off muttering to himself, Nebula turns to her sister. "See, same mental age."

Gamora, to her credit, just rolls her eyes.

Teenagers, ugh.


	2. Knitting Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles finds that, despite himself, he is settling into life in Genosha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Dark Phoenix, a little bit of tentative Cherik.

It starts with a challenge. Charles knows that the situation could have escalated into a fight if not for the unspoken agreement that all differences were resolved during the day and not at dinner time. Dinner was for rest, for community, for pleasant conversations, and anyone who broke the peace would have to answer to Erik. With the steady influx of refugees to Genosha, Erik wasn’t even the most powerful mutant on the island anymore, but he was the de facto ruler, and nobody wanted to get on the bad side of Scary Boss Man.

So. So instead of a fight, there is a challenge, and that would, to everyone’s surprise, result in Knitting Club.

When William had taken out his knitting needles the first night, there had been a lot of laughter, which William had brushed off rather easily, because everyone knew that the mocking words weren’t malicious. Everyone liked William. He was likeable, polished (an Englishman with aristocratic roots), easy going, and very, _very_ handsome. William was a favourite with a lot of the inhabitants of Genosha, and had a handful of paramours of all genders at any given time; all of whom treated his attention with reverence rather than fight bitterly over having to share him with three or four others. William’s mutation was telekinesis, but Charles thinks his _real_ super power was in his ability to make everyone love him.

Anyway, after several nights of bringing his knitting out after dinner, someone finally makes an inappropriate comment about it. William’s response was typically self-assured.

“Unlike _some_ people here, I’m confident enough in my sexuality to not care if you think my hobbies are considered girly,” he says without missing a stitch, face becoming sly as he adds, “Nor do I use my so-called masculinity to hide the fact that I have no skills whatsoever except to break things; I could hardly think something as delicate as knitting would be something you’d be good at. It’s no wonder you’re making up excuses to not even have to try; you clearly already know how rubbish you’d be at it.”

Charles can feel Erik stiffen next to him, ready to intervene if punches are thrown or weapons come out, because it’s a harsh thing to say and clearly worded to hurt. It’s also somewhat untrue, because although Kinko _was_ super strong and mostly helped in clearing debris and hauling heavy things around in their construction efforts, Kinko was also a keen gardener and enjoyed pottering with Charles around their growing vegetable patch.

Fortunately Kinko must have realised how completely douche-y making fun of William’s knitting is, and says, “Excuse you, I would be good at knitting if I decided to take it up. I just couldn’t care less.”

“Sure,” William says with a mocking smile that’s meant to antagonise even more.

Kinko falls for it, and his jaw juts out stubbornly. “Why don’t you teach me, then, pretty boy, so I can prove it to you.”

And three weeks later they had a weekly knitting club that attracted mutants from all over the island.

“What are we even going to do with all this stuff once we’re done?” Rana asks one night, holding up her rather fetching gloves. Charles is rather envious of how quick Rana had picked knitting up and how good she’d become in such a short period of time. “We’re on a _tropical island_ ; when the hell are we even going to be wearing these?”

Charles looks down at the blanket he’s been knitting since the beginning, planning on using it in the cooler months that he still feels because of his paralysis; not everyone needs warm clothing like he does on occasion, so Rana’s question is a good one. “Perhaps we can donate them?” Charles suggests. “What do you do with all of yours once you’re done with them, William?”

“Oh I package mine and send them home,” he shrugs. “Maman brings them to the refugee camp she volunteers at.”

“That is a very good idea! Erik-”

“Yes, Charles,” comes the immediate answer from the man seated next to him.

Charles smiles at Erik who is frowning down at the cap he is knitting, trying to decide where he went wrong with the pattern. Charles suppresses a giggle when he notices the colours Erik has chosen for his current project.

“We should make posters; let everyone know so those who don’t knit can still send something else if they want.”

“Yes, Charles.” The response is a hint of fondness now, less distraction, and Charles beams even more.

The rest of Knitting Club is taken up with logistics and care package ideas and though it’s late before Charles manages to haul himself into bed, Charles sleeps with a smile on his face.

Two weeks later there’s a dozen cardboard boxes ready to be packed and Charles can’t help the sense of accomplishment at being able to do something _good_ , the satisfying feeling of having contributed something useful to the little community in Genosha, loathe as he is to being known as something of a “special guest” by most of the island’s inhabitants. He’d fallen into the role of organiser for their little project - a role that Charles surprisingly relishes despite his initial protests that someone else manage it, William, maybe, as it was his idea in the first place - and it’s all he can do to not throw things at Erik when his friend gives him a self-satisfied smug at Charles’ obvious enjoyment of it all. The work is fulfilling and pleasant and if Charles carefully wraps a magenta cap with his blankets and places them, together, carefully, in one of the boxes, well, no-one needs to know.


	3. Ask me to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles - tentatively - asks Erik to stay. For one brief moment, Erik contemplates giving in to the temptation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after X-Men: Apocalypse

"You're sure I can't convince you to stay?"

The words are said casually, almost offhand, as though Charles were merely asking Erik to let a thunderstorm pass before heading home after a dinner party. But Erik, like Charles, knows the gravity of the question, the depth of the plea. Because that's what it is, and Erik cannot hide from it.

For a moment he contemplates giving in, of finally stopping from the exhausting _running_ he's been doing all his life. He takes in the tilt of Charles' head and the almost shy way that he's looking up at Erik from underneath his lashes. He's braced for rejection, Erik knows, because history has often repeated itself and they've been on opposites sides for so long that it's almost habit now; it takes everything in him to not fall to his knees at Charles's feet and beg to be allowed to stay. A tiny part of him wants to stay, to once again be bathed in the warmth of Charles' smiles, to have the only person he's ever considered his equal by his side again.

The decades had not been unkind to Charles, the telepath growing into his awesome power the way Erik always knew he would if Charles would just stop controlling himself, the insufferable man. The strength and determination Erik saw whilst they battled Apocalypse had left Erik secretly in awe of Charles power; he wants to be there when Charles finally taps into his limitless potential, and watch as the world bowed down to what he's always known as their superiority

But he resists, because Charles is a creature of politics, too much of a pacifist, unwilling to see when compromise was not a solution, too damn naive still for Erik to be able to just accept being a tamed puppet at the professor's side; that way lay madness.

So he says, "You're psychic Charles, you can convince me to do anything."

Erik knows how much Charles hates being called that, and he feels a brief flash of guilt at the jab. But Charles still looks at him with nothing but understanding, no judgement in his expression, knowing full well that there was never going be any other response. Erik almost misses the tiny, self-deprecating smile, the nod of acceptance, and it hits Erik suddenly how very beautiful Charles is in his defeated acceptance.

And just as suddenly he feels himself transported to another time, a time where Charles is no longer the baby faced, worldly professor, but older, wiser, his face lined with wrinkles and eyes infinitely sadder. Erik knows to the depth of his bones that even when he himself is gray and bowed and no longer as strong as he is now, he will still find Charles the most beautiful thing he has ever seen; it's a miracle that he doesn't crumble there and then.

He takes a jarring step away, and Charles, still watching him with that soft acceptance, just nods minutely.

Erik walks way before what little left of his resolve abandons him.

"Goodbye, old friend," Charles calls out in parting.

Erik stops, back still turned, because he cannot face Charles and still have the will to go. "Good luck, professor," he replies before finally walking through the door and away from the only person left he has still cares about.


	4. Permission (Cherik)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles is overworked and needs to take time off. Hank knows exactly how to make it happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between Apocalypse and Dark Phoenix

Erik is taking a break from going over the new plans for the settlement expansion on the east side of the island when Selene comes by carrying the satellite phone that Charles had forced onto him when Charles had come to visit when Genosha had been newly settled.

"Call for you," Selene says, eyebrow raised. "A Henry McCoy."

Erik can feel his own eyebrows go up, but takes the receiver with some trepidation; McCoy would only willingly call if it was an emergency or it had something to do with Charles, and neither or those instances were "good news" types of calls. "Beast," he says shortly.

"Magneto, I need your help with Charles," Hank replies, to the point.

Erik can feel something cold go through him. "Where is he? How bad?"

"Not like _that_ ," Hank says, "He's fine, there's nothing wrong with him. But I need you to come pick him up."

The fact that Charles is apparently fine doesn't make Erik feel that much better. "Excuse me?"

"He's not slept in _days_. I get it; the certification board are coming and it's been a stressful few weeks, but he's not sleeping. He's starting to project - half the school is walking around like zombies today."

"Ah, you want me to kidnap him, " Erik says, finally understanding. "I do believe the last time I returned Charles to the school you threatened to rip my head off if I didn't keep my distance. Not that you could have, but the sentiment was that you didn't approved of your precious professor being anywhere near me. Tell me, what happened to make you decide that I wasn't a threat to Charles, after all?"

"He's. Not. Sleeping," Hank grits out again. "Don't you care?

"I always have, contrary to what you think."

"Then what's the problem?"

Erik smiles at the mental image of Hank grinding his teeth together at the need to convince Erik to help. "Don't you need him for the board visit?"

"At the rate we're going, _none_ of us are gonna be in position to meet the board, and we'll lose certification anyway." Hank makes an impatient sound. "Just come get him, Erik. I'll even give you permission to gloat if he comes back actually rested."

Erik, despite already making mental calculations on when he can actually leave or the States, can't resist retorting, "The day I need your permission to do anything is the day you know I've been completely taken over by another sentient being."

Hank growls lowly, and Erik grins. "Are you going to help or not?"

"Pack his bag; I'll be there in twenty-four hours," Erik says, then hangs up before Hank can interject anything else.

Selene gives him an amused look. "Plans?"

Erik snorts, refusing to take the bait. "Let Ariki know I need to speak with him, if you can? Some of these plans need a second look; the beach needs some reinforcement before we can start building the pier. Let's take a week or so before we call the council for a vote.

Selene rolls her eyes, but takes the receiver from him. "Sure. A week to think about the plans. Nothing to do with you going away for a romantic holiday with your professor."

Erik ignores her, moving towards his workshop in order to rearrange the space and work on that elevator he had been planning on installing for a while now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to write an "Erik kidnaps Charles on a regular basis" type of fic.


	5. Nothing changes (Stucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets married. Nothing changes

T'Challa marries them, because if you're going to get married, you may as well have the king of the richest and most advance nation on Earth to officiate your wedding.

Sam stands up with Steve; Clint and M'Baku participate in some form of complicated game to decide who gets to stand with Bucky. Clint wins, and a less-than-gracious M'Baku loudly points out that at traditional Wakandan ceremonies, the role of the 'best man' is useless and mostly decorative; Clint makes himself a bright orange 'best man' sash that he wears for the entire three days leading up to the wedding.

Steve doesn't remember much of the ceremony, too overwhelmed with relief and happiness for him to register much; it's a good thing that all he's expected to do is follow T'Challa's lead. There's a hand-fasting and blessings from the village elders and one hilarious moment where one of Bucky's goats - Steve, the asshole - starts bleating so loud that T'Challa turns around and exclaims, "Are you serious?" as Okoye losses it and starts laughing.

In what would normally be the vows section in a western wedding, Steve gets too choked up and can't get his words out, so T'Challa skips that part altogether and says his final blessings. They're married, and Steve can't stop grinning like a loon.

There's dancing afterwards as someone - Sam, probably - had cheekily arranged for a series of famous music from the twenties, thirties and forties to be played, much to Bucky's and a surprising number of people's delight. It makes Steve all nostalgic seeing Bucky impress everyone from the Queen Mother to the new mother in their village who looks like she wants to run away with Bucky while he teaches her a simple waltz. Steve can't blame her; when Bucky has his attention on you like that, he has this amazing ability to make you feel like the most important person in the world. Too bad for all of them that the person Bucky comes home to at the end of the day is Steve.

Steve has a momentary wobble when Bucky and Natasha dance together, the ease and intimacy of their movements evidence of a once close relationship. They are beautiful together, laughing and gliding across the makeshift dance floor as though they have been dancing partners their entire life. Before he can work himself up into a stupid, jealous tantrum, Clint sidles up to him, lays a hand on his shoulder and says, "Damn, they're good, aren't they?"

It's the way Clint says it - free of any hint of envy or suspicion, nothing but muted admiration in his voice - that snaps Steve out of it.

"Yeah," Steve manages to cough out. "I was never good like Bucky; too short and too uncoordinated. Bucky tried to teach me, but I never managed to get anyone to dance with me so I couldn't really practice much."

Clint hitches his eyebrows up him. "Well then, maybe it's time for you to learn."

Steve starts to stutter out his objections but Clint drags him onto the dance floor and tries to lead him when a swing number starts playing. They're a disaster, really. Steve is laughing too hard and Clint isn't really that serious and in the end, Steve is saved from embarrassing himself too much when the music switches to the synthesised beats of more modern music.

The younger crowd cheer. Shuri runs up to Bucky and Natasha to drag Bucky into the centre where Sam is already showing off his moves. To Steve's horror, Nakia drags him into the gyrating mob and he's blushing furiously as Natasha twerks at him.

The party goes well into the early morning, not even ending when the royal entourage finally retires. Bucky and Steve walk hand in hand to their hut, leaving the younger people still dancing behind. When they make love, it's fast and frantic, then slow and sweet, Steve crying more than once from the emotion of it all. Nothing changes and nothing will change, because married or not, Steve was never going to permit anyone take Bucky away from him ever again; but he's still ultimately stupidly grateful for the love and support of their friends. Tomorrow morning Steve-the-goat will likely wake them up too early just because he's an asshole, and Bucky will get up to tend to his small holdings of goats and chickens while Steve will make their coffee and prepare a simple breakfast. Then they'll do their chores for the day, then have a hearty lunch with the villagers before heading to the palace. Bucky will spend time with his therapist and doctor and Shuri while Steve will talk strategy and politics with T'Challa, Natasha and Sam. Then they'll probably get roped into getting their assess kicked by the Dora Milaje while M'Baku laughs at them just before Okoye will then kick _his_ ass.

Nothing will change, not really, because as long as Steve has Bucky, life is already perfect.


	6. Gala (minor Cherik, Stucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is finding it very hard to say no to a very sincere Charles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was only a matter of time before I got them both in the same story...

Bucky is deep in his Minesweeper game when he hears the automatic doors to the lab open; since the only people who can get in have appropriate security access and have a reason to be there, he doesn’t see the point in looking to see who it is.

“Working hard, I see.”

Bucky whoops when he wins his difficult game, and grins up at his visitor. “Hey, Charles. If you’re looking for Erik, he’s with Stark.”

Charles Xavier, _not_ a high-level Stark Industries employee but one of Tony’s closest friends and husband to Bucky’s lab partner, rolls towards Bucky and mock-glares at him.

“I know, I just left them. Erik tells me you’re the reason why he doesn’t have to come to the gala? Something about if you don’t go then he doesn’t have to?”

Bucky groans. “What the hell, Lehnsherr? Throw me under the bus, why don’t you. Listen. Charles. I do _not_ condone him using me as an excuse to not go to the gala. In my defence, I told him he has no excuse not to go and you’d be disappointed if he didn’t.” 

Charles huffs. “What is it with the two of you and not going to galas? Why do you hate them so much - there’s always unlimited booze and good food!”

Bucky can’t help by roll his eyes. “Sometimes all the prawn canapes and whisky in the world can't make up for having a bunch of hoity-toit snobs look down their nose at you.”

“It’s not that bad -”

“Charles,” Bucky cuts him off, “do I need to remind you that you could potentially end up on the British throne-”

“I hardly think being sixteenth in line makes me a potential for the crown.”

“- And that there are literally only about a dozen people in the country with more money than you. _No-one_ looks down on you. You get to actually enjoy yourself at these things. Stark wouldn’t even go to his own galas if it weren’t for Pepper. You grew up with doing this, we didn’t; give us break sometimes, yeah?”

Charles purses his lips and the sad look he’s sporting almost makes Bucky crumble; but Bucky averts his eyes because Charles Francis Xavier knew how to wield his charms like the best of them and Bucky wasn’t going to give in.

“Besides, I have no-one to go with.”

Bucky wants to facepalm quite badly because _really?_ What happened to staying strong?

Charles, ever the opportunist, perks up. “You don’t have to bring anyone if you don’t want to.”

“Galas are never fun if I don’t have anyone to complain to; and no, complaining to Erik doesn’t count because he’s even more of a miserable bastard at those things than he usually is.”

Charles ignores the last part and suggests, “What about Steve? You always bring Steve - is he sick or something? Is that why he can’t go with you?”

The small temptation to lie and say yes, Steve is sick so Bucky’s go-to plus-one couldn’t come dies a swift death at the small frown creasing Charles’ face; Charles was genuinely a really nice guy and would probably send over a few days’ worth of chicken soup or even his own personal doctor if he thought Steve was actually sick enough to not attend.

“I don’t always bring Steve,” Bucky protests instead.

Charles gives him a look. “You’ve brought Steve four out of the five years you’ve worked here - and in one of those years you were dating someone else.”

Well, he’d only been dating Dot for three months, much too early to be bringing her to something as big as a company gala. Besides, he’d brought her the next year, hadn’t he? Because they were dating. Nothing to do with the fact that Steve had contracted pneumonia the week before and hadn’t been able to go. No, not at all.

Bucky shrugs.

“Besides, we’re unveiling your new project to the world - shouldn’t you actually be there?”

“I don’t want to go,” Bucky says weakly, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. “They’re so _boring_ and I’m so _tired_ ; I just want to sleep and not have to think of work for a _week_.”

Charles’ expression becomes soft and knowing. “I know; Erik’s starting to look a bit haggard too. I know how hard you’ve both been working. But Bucky, the work you and Erik have done on these prosthetics is ground breaking and life changing - nothing would make me happier than this chance to show off your work on Friday night.”

Bucky looks at Charles sitting in his wheelchair and looking up at Bucky with so much sincerity and Bucky feels like an insensitive prick. What’s one night of being uncomfortable smooching with the gaudily rich when it will mean getting more funding for their prosthetic program? It’s not like Stark couldn’t afford to pump more into the project - it's his company’s brainchild after all - but having such visible support from people who had the power to raise more awareness for those suffering from disabilities would be priceless. 

Bucky knows that part of Erik’s involvement in the project was a burning desire to be able to one day give someone a chance to walk again - a chance that might be too late for Charles - and Bucky knows that his own motivation is touched with guilt; he’d come home from the army with demons and nightmares, but at least he still had all his limbs; not everyone was so lucky. He should be proud of the work they’d done; why was he being so stubborn about it?

“Okay,” he says softly. 

Charles beams at him. “Splendid! Don’t worry, after this, I'll convince Tony to give you a few days off. You and Steve can come stay with us up at Westchester. Or we can take the jet and stay at our cabin in Alaska for a while?” Charles turns and heads towards the door. “This is fantastic. It will be like a couples retreat for us four. I can’t wait.”

Bucky stares after Charles, wondering how the hell Charles could think that Bucky would want to spend even _more_ time with his grumpy as hell partner and is about to object, but Charles is already waving at him from the closing lift doors and Bucky just waves back tiredly. He was so looking forward to that week off.

He's about to start another Minesweeper game when it only just hits him what Charles said. Couples' retreat? What couples retreat? Was Charles talking about him and Steve? But they weren't-

"Charles!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write a "didn't know they were dating" fic for one of my bingo squares, but couldn't get the inspiration to finish it; so here's the general idea.


	7. Tip of the iceberg (Cherik)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These pesky humans think that they _know_ Charles, just because Charles was the loud and visible advocate for human-mutant co-living for the past two decades. It makes Erik want to sneer; what Charles showed to to the masses was only the tip of the iceberg, and only Erik knows its true depths.

If it weren't for the fact that Charles would surely be disappointed at him - and by disappointed, Erik meant: annoyed to the point where the jacuzzi sitting in the middle of the giant suite that Erik had booked for them for the night wouldn't get used because Erik would be banished to the inadequate loveseat - Erik would be laughing his head off. It amuses him beyond measure that these pesky humans think that they _know_ Charles, just because Charles was the loud and visible advocate for human-mutant co-living for the past two decades. It makes Erik want to sneer; what Charles showed to to the masses was only the tip of the iceberg, and only Erik knows its true depths.

The celebration is suitably tacky and tactless - as though Erik and Charles and any mutant vaguely paying attention didn't know that McCoy's appointment as the new director-general of the World Health Organisation was a not-so-subtle attempt to keep all those progressively louder voices demanding a mutant appointed to a higher position within the United Nations happy. When a delegate had approached Charles for his recommendations, the sheer delight and brilliance emanating from Charles mind had nearly given Erik a headache as Charles had gushed about 'the genius of Dr. McCoy who although was one of Charles' proteges was such an obvious choice and really, they could forgive Charles for being just a tad biased, right?'. The delegate had thanked Charles for his suggestion and advised him that they would take it under serious consideration, then left, looking just as solemn as they had arrived.

As though they were going to appoint anyone other than the legendary Charles Xavier's recommendation.

As though there was going to be any other choice than Dr. Henry McCoy - he of the multiple Nobel Prize nominees, PhDs and revolutionary treatments for conditions once thought to be terminal and hopeless - who had done more for global disease control than any other person living in the last decade and a half.

As though there were actually going to be any other candidates since Erik and Charles and their trusted allies had spent the last decade maneuvering behind the scenes so that when the time was ripe, they'd have friends in high places. Lorna had been the first (and wasn't Erik so incredibly proud of that?) having served as ambassador to the UN for the last six years, then Kitty as director of DARPA shortly after. Since then they'd had allies appointed in corresponding positions around the world; and that didn't even count the many times Charles had been approached to head the UN Security Council (Charles liked to claim that the only reason why he kept turning it down was because he was waiting for them the offer him the position of Secretary General, but Erik liked to think that Charles enjoyed being 'Consort of the Ruler of Genosha' better).

As though having survived kidnapping and torture for the third time, Charles's unrelenting optimism that mutants and baseline humans could co-exist without fear or animosity wouldn't eventually _crack_ , leading him to finally accept that Erik had been right all this time and that they would do it Erik's way this time. With compromise; which, at the time, Erik was desperate to accept just because he was so relieved to have rescued Charles before it was too late and would have agreed to anything just as long as Charles continued to _live_.

It had been a tumultuous decade so far - and would continue to be even long after they were dead - but he and Charles had committed to seeing this through, and part of finally seeing a world where mutants wouldn't have to live in the type of prejudice and discrimination and fear that they lived in now, was making sure that those in position to make decisions, would do so with other mutants' safety in mind. Hence the behind the scenes manipulation that none of the baselines had seemed to figure out. It was ridiculous really, how willing they were all to accept the gentle harmless face that Charles Xavier showed them all while simultaneously fearing Erik and his reputation for extremism and violence.

As though their relationship would have lasted the last two decades if it wasn't for the simple fact that they loved each other too deeply and wanted essentially the same thing.

As though Charles didn't know - and embrace - all those characteristics that made baselines fear Erik because the two of them having somewhat diametric public personas made it easier for them to execute their plans. Erik had no care for what others thought of him anyway and was happy to play the 'bad cop' in this relationship.

As though Charles didn't his wield his public persona - on of the richest men on the planet, certified genius with nearly as many scientific accomplishments as McCoy, generous philanthropist, celebrated peacekeeper, confidant of royalty and world leaders - the same way that Erik used his power as one of the fastest growing sovereign nations on the planet.

It was completely laughable how much they thought they knew Charles and could manipulate him - conveniently forgetting that Charles was the most powerful psionic on the _planet_ when it suited them. Erik often wondered when they would finally figure out that that all the power suppression technology they expected Charles to wear was only ever occasionally successful considering how much Charles' telepathy had strengthened in their years on Genosha; apparently they were too stupid to figure it out or too scared to admit that there were mutants out there who could literally change everything a person believed about themselves and not even know that they'd been manipulated.

Erik found it all so very amusing. Oh if they only knew just how deep that iceberg went - they'd never ask a recommendation or seek Charles' assistance ever again. And god how Erik _loved_ Charles for it, all the more because Charles didn't show anyone - not even their closest allies or even their children - his true depths the way he shared all of himself with Erik. Only Erik was privilege to all that, and one day, Erik dreamt, the world would finally realise just how truly powerful Charles is and oh how they'd _cower;_ and Erik? Erik would glory in it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my amateur attempt to write a _Charles finally realises Erik was right and agrees to do it Erik's way_ fic (with less violence but darker tactics than what Charles would normally employ. I love the idea of Charles being Erik's "consort" because we all know he'd never just sit back and be a pretty face hehe and yeah, Erik would be so freaking proud of his crazy powerful telepath!


End file.
